


Divided We Fall

by TheBrunswickian



Category: The Yogscast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-06 16:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5424431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrunswickian/pseuds/TheBrunswickian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rythian, hell-bent for revenge, unleashes the deadliest power in all the known realms. But it does not come without consequences. As the power quickly slips from his control, the rest of the world is pulled into a deadly and bloody war to defeat Rythian. Even if it has to cost them everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The spaceman struggled to hold himself up, balancing on the hilt of his broken sword. His feet were heavy with mud and his hair soaked in the rain, and his clothes were seeped in blood. The spaceman's sword slipped from his side and he fell face first into the soft dirt, the rain dancing off his body. With what little strength he had left in him, he pushed his face from the dirt and rolled over. It was futile. The mage had beaten him. Him and his friends. They were all innocent in this nightmare, it was he who was at fault. Laying on his back, the spaceman watched as the jet black night was pierced by the pale purple eyes of his foe. 

"Just do it," the spaceman screamed, "we've come this bloody far!"   
The magician strode forward so the white moonlight illuminated his blood-splattered face. He pulled off his hood and began to circle the spaceman, like a wolf circling it's prey. 

"You know that's not what we want," the magician said, "not what I want."

"Don't lie to me Rythian. You and I know that you want me dead."   
Rythian charged forward. His hand pressed against the spaceman's neck, squeezing only slightly enough.

"No, Xephos, it really isn't."nXephos looked into Rythian's eyes with confusion. 

"Then what? What was the point of any of it? Why the war, why the destruction?"

"I - I had no choice."

"You unleashed the most dangerous power in all the living realms! You must have known the consequences!"   
Rythian had turned away from Xephos, who was now propping himself up against a small tree. 

"I knew there would be consequences," Rythian snapped almost in time with a crack of lightning, "I just didn't think she would be it!" The thunder rolled over the hills. Rythian turned back towards its origin. 

"That wasn't lightning and you know it Rythian," Xephos said slowly. "She disturbed the fabric of reality. That's going to leave scar tissue."  
Rythian slowly turned back to Xephos. His soft purple eyes locked contact with the spaceman's. The magician began to flex his hands until a bright purple flame engulfed his fingers. The purple flames danced in the rain as Rythian rolled his fingers.

"Give me one good reason I should let you live," growled the magician.   
Xephos broke contact with Rythian's gaze, and looked at the floor. He took a short breath, before turning back to the magician standing over him. 

"I can't."


	2. The Fortress of Broken Sorrows

Zoey thundered through the forest. Her heart was racing as adrenaline filled her veins. She stopped when she heard the noise. A loud, reptilian growl echoed through the trees, shattering the quiet noise of wispful birds and rustling branches. Zoey waited for the second growl as she caught her breath. The eerie silence continued to surround her, calming her aching muscles. 

As expected the second call made its way through the dark, silent trees. This thing was ranged. It hunted. Running was not going to help. If she really wanted to beat this thing, she would have to take the fight to it. Drawing her sword she readied herself to take off in the creature's direction. A third growl, louder this time, came from behind her. Zoey turned and bolted into the forest.

As she moved swiftly, the angry groans of the creature drifted closer and closer. Zoey pushed several brushes and branches from her face, forcing her way into the clearing. Before her, stood a hulking, green, reptilian creature that stood much taller than she did. Zoey dropped into her prepared stance with ease, drawing her sword as her feet slipped into position. The reptile grabbed its bow and loaded it, pointing it directly at her.

The arrow glided from the bow with ease, swiftly and silently soaring through the air towards Zoey. She had to act fast. Loading her weight into her left leg she thrust her leg from the ground, sending her tumbling to the right. The ground caught her with its soft padding. Zoey rolled into the ground and pushed herself onto her feet with delicate ease.  
“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” she taunted. 

The creature bellowed with rage, and prepared to fire another arrow at her. Seizing this chance, Zoey lept forward. She raised her sword above her head, and brought it swinging down into the creature’s stomach. Her landing was less elegant than the first. She stumbled, placing all her weight onto her right leg. She fell, her legs flying out awkwardly. The wooden sword in her hand splintered as she tried to use it to save herself. The creature roared in a fit of laughter.  
“It’s not funny Teep!” Zoey demanded. The dinosaur was having none of that. He continued to roar with laughter as Zoey got to her feet. “Oi! I still won. If that was a real sword, I would have cut you open,” Zoey teased, giving Teep a playful punch in the stomach. 

Having worn themselves out, Zoey and Teep made their way back to their fortress. The black stone walls imposed itself eerily over the surrounding areas. The tall turrets of the tower only made the structure that much more imposing. It was not homely from the outside. But on the inside, Zoey had made it comfortable enough for the three of them. Zoey stepped up the shallow steps to the door. Everything about this building was imposing. But what it did scream was: we are here. Zoey never understood that. What was the point of sneaking around if the door made it obvious they were around? It was stupid. But she went along with it, because, as always, Rythian was right. 

Zoey pushed the door open and took a few steps into the hallway.  
“We are back!” she called into the dark, empty hall. Her voice echoed softly off the walls. She sighed and dumped her things on the floor. She could sort them out later. She kicked off her boots, and slipped off her woolen socks. Zoey made a slight gasp as her bare feet meet with the cold marble floor.  
“A rug,” she muttered to herself, “a rug would be nice.” Her feet quickly adjusted to the marble floor as Zoey strolled down the hall. It was late, so Rythian would probably be eating. Or at least trying to eat. His latest scheme was getting the better of him. He had become so skinny due to the late nights he spent agonizing over getting these enchantments right. It hurt her. Watching him waste away on his endless quest for revenge. 

Zoey turned into the kitchen, only to find it totally empty. She ‘hurmphed’ to herself, wondering where he had gotten to. As she made her way back into the hall, Zoey realised that it didn’t matter really and made her way towards the bedroom. Pushing open the door of the large bedroom revealed Rythian’s location. “Oh,” surprise rich in her voice. And not because Rythian was in the room, that was normal enough. But Rythian stood fully dressed in travelling clothes packing things into a pack.  
“What are you up to?” Zoey quizzed. Rythian snapped round, his pale purple eyes locking with Zoey’s. 

“Oh, hey,” he purred in his thick accent. “I am going to get something to enact this final enchantment.” Zoey looked at him quizzically.

“Hmm,” she murmured, quickly realising that was out loud. “Where are you off to exactly?”

“The less you know about this Zoey, the better.” Zoey walked forwards, placing her hands on Rythian’s biceps. She stared into his eyes, trying to read his face. Rythian was a man of little words and fewer expressions. 

“They are happening again,” she said softly, “aren’t they?” He might be hard to read, but Zoey could work him out. He was a jigsaw puzzle, scattered across a room. Pieces of him were everywhere, but Zoey knew that she could put those pieces together and rebuild the old him.

Rythian didn’t respond to Zoey’s question with words. His strong arms wrapped around Zoey’s back, his head resting gently on top of hers. Zoey’s arms slipped around Rythian’s broad shoulders, and pulled him in tighter.  
“It will be over soon,” she whispered to him, “I promise.”

“Thank you,” Rythian whispered back, so quiet Zoey could barely hear it. The two stood there, in each other’s arms until Rythian squirmed, the signal to disengage. He closed up his pack and slung it over his shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few days,” he murmured. 

“Stay safe,” Zoey replied. Rythian forced a little smile and shuffled out of the room. Zoey didn’t move from her spot until she heard the door close before falling onto the bed and sobbing into the pillow.


	3. Under the Mountain

He was falling. Through the pitch black night, all he could do was fall. There was no way to stop it. His body continued to plummet down until he saw them. Piercing the darkness came two eyes. Red eyes. Honeydew stared into the blood red eyes and waited to see what they were going to do. The darkness was filled with a blood curdling laugh. The laugh grew louder and louder and louder still. 

Honeydew’s body was thrown forward, screaming. Realising he was now awake, he took a few moments to catch his breathe before placing his head in his hands. How was this possible? He couldn’t be. Could he? But we trapped him. He cannot of escaped. Could he? Honeydew’s mind raced, trying to make sense of what was happening. 

The dwarf swung his legs over the side of the bed and jumped down. Having performed his daily ablutions, Honeydew decided he had to find the spaceman. This could not be just a dream. The clinical white walls of his sleeping quarters didn’t have the same feeling as a small quaint little wooden hut in a field. How could they have lost it all? 

Honeydew strolled down the large, endless hallways that straddled a ridiculous area. He wasn’t entirely sure exactly everything that the spaceman even did here, but he trusted in his judgement. After all, the spaceman was his best friend. Honeydew let the doors in front of him slide open as he approached the spaceman’s office. 

“Xephos?” he called, just to make sure his friend was in. As he entered the large room, he could hear the spaceman yelling. Loudly. 

“I don’t care what it takes,” Xephos bellowed, “just do it!’ Xephos slammed his communicator onto the table. “Ah, Honeydew,” he said, standing, “how can I help you?”

“I had a dream,” Honeydew stated. Xephos didn’t look impressed. 

“If you make some comment about the Jaffa Factory,” Xephos sighed, “I’m going to have you used as the test subject for the particle disassembler.” 

“Its not about that,” Honeydew said, confusion rife on his face, “the disassembler, I want to come back to.” Xephos sat down again, waiting for Honeydew to get to the point. “I think,” Honeydew began, “I think he’s back.” Xephos looked up. 

“You had that dream too?”

“Yes.”

Xephos stood. He pushed himself away from the desk and began pacing alongside the tall glass windows that overlooked the heart of the operations. His face became more and more disturbed.   
“But how?” Xephos finally demanded. This statement was of course rhetorical. “We sent him to the darkest pits of Hell! The void itself!” 

“I know,” Honeydew sighed, “after everything that we went through, that the world went through, we cannot. Must not allow him to return to this realm.” 

“Well of course,” Xephos sighed, “but how? We may have all the technology under the sun, but what we did was the darkest of dark magic.”

Honeydew thought. He had watched as everything burnt. His home. His friends. His family. Everything. He has watched it as this evil had destroyed everything he had ever cared for. He couldn’t just watch as everything he and Xephos had fought to defend was shattered. 

“We are going to need to bring in an expert,” Xephos said. Honeydew looked at him. 

“Please tell me you don’t mean-’.

“I’m afraid I do.”

“Xephos, we haven’t seen him in years. Since. Well. You know.” Xephos turned to look down into Honeydew’s eyes. The dwarf had struck a nerve. 

“Sorry,” the dwarf muttered in apology. Xephos strolled back to his desk and picked up his communicator. 

“Get me Duncan Jones.”


	4. Crisis of Faith

_Three Years Ago_

Xephos’ legs were aching. All of his body was in pain too, but his legs hurt most. It was the running, he reasoned. He had been running for what seemed like forever. He felt sorry for Honeydew, who had been running the same distance as Xephos, just on much shorter legs with a more heafty body weight.

“Bikes! Did I not say we should get bikes Xephos?” Honeydew demanded.

The two rounded a corner.

“Not now Honeydew!” Xephos bellowed.

They rounded one more corner, only to find themselves at a dead end.

“Shit!” Xephos shouted, “We must have taken a wrong turn at the partical accelerator.”  
“No, I think you took a left at the zucchini modification room, when it should have been right,” Honeydew stated. “Why do we have that room?”

“Not now.”

From behind them came a blood-curdling growl. Deep, low and brutual. Xephos and Honeydew turned slowly, in unison. Before them, at the end of the corridor, stood a man. He wore a lab coat, once white, now stained red and pink as blood was splashed across its front. His face was twisted into a snarl. He grinned through the snarl, exposing his sharp, pointed teeth. Tangled blonde hair matted with blood dangled across his face.

“I know this probably the wrong time to say this, but,” Honeydew stated, “I told you so.”

“NOT NOW!”

The man rolled his head to the side, watching the fools in front of him. It was an odd sight to behold. Xephos turned back to the wall.

“There has to be a way out,” he muttered. As his eyes scanned the wall, Xephos noticed a small hatch about halfway up. He could probably reach it if Honeydew gave him a boost. Quickly checking over his shoulder, Xephos grabbed Honeydew and moved him into place just below the hatch.

“What are you doing?” Honeydew protested.

“Just trust me you halfwit.”

“Oh for God’s sake Xephos, we are not going to have this argument again!”

“Just trust me if you want to live!”

Honeydew just rolled his eyes as Xephos began to lift himself onto the dwarf’s shoulders. He managed to balance his tall, lanky body on top of the dwarf’s broad shoulders. Despite being lifted slightly further, thanks to the dwarf’s lack of height, Xephos’ outstretched arm fail to grasp the hatch in the wall.

“Shit,” he muttered.

The blood-soaked man continued to watch them.

“Just, hold on a minute would you,” Xephos said. He lifted his left leg from the dwarf’s shoulder, only to place down on his...head.

“Are you right?” Honeydew demanded.

“DO YOU WANT TO LIVE!?” Xephos snapped back. Honeydew could only shrug his shoulders. The sudden movement across Honeydew’s frame caused Xephos to lose his balance. Grasping at the wall to regain his balance, Xephos could only fall. He let out a small yelp as he tumbled from upon the dwarf’s body.

“Oh please,” Honeydew muttered, “That wasn’t even that bad!”

Xephos rolled his eyes into the cold, metal floor. Dusting himself off as he stood, Xephos noticed that they were still being watched.

“Why is he just standing there?”

“Don’t ask me!” Honeydew snapped, “It was your idea to corrupt the cloning process!”

“In my defence, it was a complete accident,” Xephos replied, as he folded his arms across his chest. “Granted an accident I didn’t stop and then decided to encourage as I realised what was happening. But all the same, an accident.”  
Honeydew let out an audible sigh, followed by an obvious rolling of the eyes. It was at that moment that their watcher decided to make his move. He took several steps forward, slowly.

“Ah, he is now moving towards us. This could be bad,” Honeydew stated.

“Oh, thank you for the update of the BLINDINGLY OBVIOUS!”

The blood-soaked man took more steps forward. He quickly picked up his pace until he broke out into a sprint.

Thundering down the corridor, the man had one thought on his mind. Blood. Their blood. Spilling from their veins, decorating the clinically white walls with a crimson flush. The bitter taste of iron across his tongue. The feeling of torn flesh between his stained teeth. It filled him with joy and happiness.

And then nothing.

A bright flash lite up the corridor. Honeydew had covered his eyes as soon as the man began to sprint at them. Xephos had clambered at the walls again. Realising that their death had not come upon them, Honeydew and Xephos allowed themselves to look. Just several metres from them lay the body of the man who had cornered them. Lifeless and still. And standing at the end of the corridor, stood another one. Well, not exactly another one, just another man who looked the same. Wearing the same white coat, with the same messy, dirty blonde hair, with the same bemused expression across his face.

“We totally had that,” Honeydew claimed.

“Yeah sure,” replied Duncan Jones, “You totally had that.”

Xephos had to take a couple of seconds to process what had happened. And where the hell did Duncan get clearance to get hold of that gun!?

“Where did that gun come from?” Xephos demanded, “That’s a highly unstable proto–“

“Protoplasmic neutron cannon. I know,” Duncan cut him off, “I borrowed it.”

Xephos just rolled his eyes. This would have to be followed up on.

“But while you are making demands of me,” Duncan began, “why in the name of sanity do you have a psychopathic mass-murdering corrupt clone of me?”

“Ahhhh. That I can totally explain,” Xephos said, pulling at his collar.

Duncan snapped.

“I don’t care about your explanation, Xephos, I don’t give a flying shit anymore. I am done with you people. This, this, is a total violation of morality. You allowed a clone of me, to be corrupted into a violent murderer. If I ever find out that you have any other clones of me that are corrupted into, I don’t even fucking know what, then I will personally rip out your heart and feed it to a testificate. Do you hear me?”

Xephos’ face was unchanged. His arms folded across his chest, he took a short breath before speaking.

“Hand in your personal effects to security on your way out. If you find this to be a violation of your rights, please refer to Page 17, Paragraph 4 of your contract of employment. Any resistance to the mind-wipe will result in your immediate death. Never enter my line of sight again.”

“Gladly.”

Duncan walked away, dropping the gun as he turned into an alternate corridor, where he was immediately grabbed by security and dragged away.

“Well that could have gone better,” Honeydew said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm back. I have returned to this series. I do hope that I will remember to continue writing this, and if I do, it will sporadic. Hope you enjoy


	5. Distractions

Duncan sat at his desk, chin cradled in his hands. His arms splayed out in a sharp horizontal line running parallel to the edge of the oak structure, before turning sharply at the elbows and making his way back to his body. He stared intensely at a small vile of some liquid on the desk, as if he was waiting for something to happen. But what? Why was it important? Was this the final stage, or was there something else involved? If so, then what was that? And why was he so incredulously boring when like this? 

These were the questions that plagued Kim as she leaned against the stone door way, arms folded across her chest, staring at him. From behind, she couldn’t note the slim, lanky build of a man who seemed to be starving himself. She had forced food into him last night, but Kim couldn’t be sure how much had actually stayed in his stomach.

“You know, time would move faster if you invented a time machine,” Kim stated after some time of them both staring. Duncan didn’t react for a few moments.

“Hum?” was the only noise he could make.

“And next I shall do a cartwheel and shoot fire from my nostrils, while singing ‘I Will Survive’,” Kim said next. This was enough for Duncan’s brain to return to proper thinking.

“That I would like to see,” Duncan chuckled. A small smile perked at the corner of his mouth. That’s the first time I have seen him smile in a very long time, Kim thought. 

“Well, I was suggesting we should build a time machine. It will take long enough that we will decide that the first thing we should do is go back in time and stop you from building a time machine.”

Duncan scratched his head. “But that would cause the timeline to dissolve.” He finally stood up and paced across the room.

“Exactly,” Kim exclaimed, “Don’t you want to know what would happen if we cause a space-time paradox?”

“We could risk the entire dismantlement of the entire timeline of reality, Time would totally collapse.”

“Wouldn’t it be worth it to find out though?”

Duncan considered this for a few moments. 

“I guess.”

“Excellent, where do we begin?” Kim asked excitedly. 

Duncan considered this too. Time travel created paradoxes. And paradoxes had a tendency to collapse. So they would have to be stabilised.

“We would have to develop a paradox stabiliser.”

Duncan and Kim looked at each other before rushing from the room.

***  
Kim was sitting up in the corner, gently whacking a sheet of iron with a wrench. Duncan was busy tinkering on a small machine, which was held together by bubble-gum and sheer will power. It had worked, hadn’t it? Distracting him. Distracting him from her. Kim knew she was why Duncan was always staring at little vials of chemical and other assorted compounds. He had promised him a cure, and now she was killing him. Irony had a funny way of manifesting itself, huh? In Duncan’s endless search to help her, he was slowly killing himself. And she could not bear to watch it. 

A small explosion and a shout of glee broke Kim’s train of thought. 

“I think I’ve done it!” Duncan exclaimed. 

“Done what?” Kim asked, pushing herself to her feet with her wrench. 

“I think I have developed a stabiliser for paradoxes.”

“How?”

“Well, I have managed to re-route the magnetic field, back into the cosmic combustion engine, which powers the neutron accelerator and that develops enough artron energy and you have totally lost interest.”

“What gave me away?” Kim asked cheerfully.

Duncan continued to babble and Kim laughed as she understood none of what the fuck he was saying anymore. A loud screech filled the room. It was unbearable. With his hands over his ears, Duncan made his way to the window, stumbling without balance. Outside stood a man, clad in black armour, with other men in black armour and with big guns standing behind him. Finally the screeching stopped. Kim noticed the furious expression on Duncan’s face. He was so red, he looked like his head was about to explode. 

“What is it?” Kim called after Duncan as he stormed out of the room.

“Sam Thorne, what the fuck is this about?” Duncan screamed.


End file.
